The Showdown

Harry Potter faced Lord Voldemort across the dark stone room. Thunder rumbled outside. Their wands were raised, but neither had yet cast a spell. Their first exchange in this final duel, in the best traditions of final showdowns, would be with words.

"But I have a Power that You Know Not!" Harry cried.

"What power could possibly matter against Lord Voldemort, Heir of Slytherin?" Voldemort scoffed.

Harry grinned triumphantly. "The power of the heir of another of the founders of Hogwarts."

"Fool! You think you are the heir of Gryffindor just because of some conjurer's trick with a sword? I have spent five years tracing the bloodline of Godric Gryffindor back to the old fool himself. I have examined countless books of lore and genealogy. There are no more heirs of the lion."

Harry's smile broadened. "I know. Hermione looked it up in Hogwarts, a History. But who said anything about Gryffindor? I will not be alone in this fight, Tom! Meet, the Heir of Ravenclaw!"

A dramatic crack of lighting illuminated the room through the thin gothic windows, and a figure appeared in the doorway. It held a lit wand vertically before it. The figure threw back the hood of its black wizard robes, and Luna Lovegood stepped into the room. She began to speak, power and unshakeable will evident in every word.

"I am the keeper of the Secret Snorcklack, guardian of The Light Fantastic (and other works by Terry Pratchett). Your dark powers will not avail you, serpent of shadow! You… shall… not… pass!"

Harry and Tom looked at each other. In perfect unison they turned to look at Luna, looked back at each other, and lowered their wands. Identical looks of confusion formed on their faces as they turned to look at Luna again.

Voldemort broke the silence. "Terry who?" he snapped angrily.

Harry's voice had the forced calm of someone who is trying very hard not to panic. "Luna? What are you doing here? Cho's supposed to be here – you know, theHeir of Ravenclaw and all that?"

"Sorry, Harry, it's her time of the month. I'm filling in. I think I did the dramatic entrance well; did you like it?" She smiled brightly.

"Ah, it was very nice, Luna, but I'm sort of about to duel a Dark Lord here. I really think I need more than a dramatic entrance."

There was a flash of lightning, and once again a hooded figure stood in the door.

Harry winced. This figure was shorter even than Luna, and hardly appeared to be a lean, mean fighting machine. But then the figure lowered its hood, and hope blossomed in Harry's chest as he beheld the mane of red hair.

"WHAT do you think you're doing?" Molly Weasley strode into the room, hands on her hips. "FIGHTING? If you so much as lay a FINGER on that boy…" She advanced, and Voldemort retreated helplessly into a corner, raising his hands to shield himself from a torrent of sound that easily drowned out the thunder.

"End it! Kill me! Kill me now!!!" Voldemort begged.

The End

Author's Note: My apologies to JRR Tolkien for Luna's entrance line, but really, how different can JRR and JKR be?

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